


venom, to thy work

by summerofspock



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Biting, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Come Marking, Desk Sex, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Feral Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Marking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sex Pollen, Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), but like...actually feral and not in a meme way, or rather, sex venom, venom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:07:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerofspock/pseuds/summerofspock
Summary: "It's settled then. You'll give me a little"—Aziraphale waggled his fingers—"of your venom on our next night out and we will take it from there."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 1045
Collections: Aziraphale/Crowley Smut Library, Summer's Kink Corner, The Snake Pit, Top Aziraphale Recs





	venom, to thy work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pearwaldorf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearwaldorf/gifts).



> cw: some dub con elements but don't worry Crowley is super into it
> 
> Written for pearwaldorf after a discussion on the romcom discord about our mutual love of feral Aziraphale. I'd been planning a venom fic and because I enjoyed working with specific kink prompts, I asked them for a few.
> 
> Thus, this fic was born.
> 
> title from Hamlet

Crowley liked their little dates.

It wasn’t as if they didn't go out regularly but every fifteenth of every month they went out. It wasn't just nice dinner and a shared bottle of wine on a quiet evening. It was the sort of going out where Aziraphale got dolled up and Crowley put on his best trousers. It was raucous laughter in the corner of a dingy bar, kissing in full view of people who cringed at them. It was a celebration of sorts.

It was also the only time Aziraphale let loose.

Since the apocalypse Aziraphale had grown free with his affections. He’d told Crowley he loved him, had done for a long time. And from that moment Crowley was a limpet on a lifeboat named Aziraphale.

It had been a lot of languorous kisses, full of tentative affection and newfound heat. Aziraphale would carefully slip his hands under Crowley's clothes, slowly unwrapping him. It was good. Crowley loved him. Aziraphale loved him back. It was impossibly good. It wasn’t as if tenderness had ever been on the menu in Hell and Crowley was savoring every second.

So on their first fifteenth when Aziraphale had crowded him against the wall of the club, Crowley had been surprised to say the least. His surprise had only grown when Aziraphale kissed his neck, traced his hands under Crowley’s shirt, nipped his earlobe. The room was too filled with bodies for anyone to notice two man-shaped beings snogging in the corner and Aziraphale had gotten Crowley off by just rocking against him, whispering dirty things in his ear as he grasped his hips with strong hands.

Just the memory sent a shiver through Crowley.

It became something of a tradition. Let's go out and live it up the human way. 

And then Aziraphale would drag him to the loo of a bar or down a dark alley, get him off in a myriad of creative ways and then take him home where bed became an afterthought because Aziraphale seemed out to fuck him on every available surface. 

Not that Crowley was complaining.

It was unbearably exciting to see this other side of Aziraphale. An Aziraphale who wanted to fuck in cars and get each other off in movie theatres. It was different. And it was also very, very good.

"Look, I'm not saying you have to," Aziraphale pointed out on an average Thursday—fondue night—as he licked cheese off his fingers. "It's only that I'm quite intrigued. You've never used your demonic powers on me."

"They wouldn't work, you're an angel," Crowley pointed out, adjusting his trousers because years watching Aziraphale lick things really had done a number on his libido. Trained up like a good dog, he was. "Temptations don't work on angels."

Aziraphale fiddled with his fondue fork. "I wasn't exactly thinking of temptations."

Crowley frowned. "Then what—oh no. No. You want me to—"

"I know you've told me how useful it's been and I've found myself curious. You know I trust you."

"You'll lose control entirely. You want that?" Crowley asked, dubious even as traitorous arousal hooked low in his belly. He pictured Aziraphale, lust blown pupils, rumble in his chest, superior strength holding Crowley down as he took his pleasure. His cock started to fill and he had to shift in his seat.

"I simply think there is some appeal in giving myself over to something stronger than me. I know you like our little outings. Don't you think you'd enjoy it?"

Crowley was starting to agree, filthy images and ghostly sensations— _potential—_ taking root inside him.

"Yeah, I—I think I would."

Aziraphale perked up immediately. He always did when he got his way. 

"It's settled then. You'll give me a little "—Aziraphale waggled his fingers—"of your venom on our next night out and we will take it from there."

Crowley's scalp tingled and, unbidden, he felt venom leak into his mouth, seeking a victim. He swallowed it. Not that it had any effect on him.

* * *

Aziraphale chose Crowley’s clothes for the evening. _Ease of removal, darling_

Crowley was weak for darling so he put on the slightly looser trousers Aziraphale handed him, left off his drawers and let Aziraphale tug a long sleeved black henley over his head. Aziraphale let him wear his blazer but he gave him a warning look— _don't blame me if it rips—_ that had given Crowley delicious shivers.

They went out for dinner. Aziraphale seemed to be extra attentive, making sure Crowley ate. They'd decided to stay sober for the evening and when they finally left for the bar, Aziraphale seemed unwilling to stop touching him. Hand on his hip, tucked up under the hem of his shirt, knocking their hands together. Crowley, for all his nerves, loved it.

It was when Aziraphale hauled him into the darkest corner in the place and pulled him close— they didn't exactly dance, mostly dragging their bodies together and swaying slightly, the thrill of exposure as they touched worth the strange looks garnered by their lack of skill.

Music neither of them recognized thrummed through the room, the gyration of bodies filling the space with mounting lust. Crowley could taste it, a heady cinnamon flavor on the back of his tongue. He wondered if Aziraphale could sense it as well.

Aziraphale tipped their foreheads together and Crowley felt his chest expand with a deep inhalation before he brought their mouths together in a brief kiss. "Are you ready?"

Crowley's heart was in his throat. He'd wanted Aziraphale for millennia and the months since he'd been allowed to have him had done nothing to stop that wanting. He doubted anything would make it fade.

"Are you?"

Aziraphale nodded and tilted his head, exposing the golden column of his throat, lightly shaded by blonde stubble. Crowley swallowed and tucked his nose into his neck inhaling the musky scent of his cologne.

He licked Aziraphale’s pulse, the tang of him bursting over his tongue. He inhaled. And bit down.

Aziraphale groaned, body jerking. Crowley had expected to hate this part but the short bloom of copper illuminated his nerves like lightning as he released venom into Aziraphale’s body. Just a little. Not enough to kill, or drive him mad but enough. Enough for what he'd asked for.

When Crowley finally pulled back, he licked his lips and brushed his thumb over the drops of blood on Aziraphale’s neck smearing it like paint on a pale canvas.

Aziraphale was breathing hard and, when his eyes met Crowley's, the pupils were wide and black.

"How do you feel?" Crowley asked.

Aziraphale didn't answer, just grabbed Crowley's hand and placed it on the front of his trousers, forcing him to rub over the hardness there. 

"How do you think I feel? You did that you know. Made me hard. Do you enjoy knowing you have this effect on me?"

Crowley nodded as his gut tightened with anticipation. Aziraphale only talked like this occasionally and Crowley loved it. It sent his mind into some place where everything felt warm and muted, the only thing existing between them trust and desire.

"How will you like it when I fuck you?" Aziraphale was rocking against Crowley’s hand as they moved closer to each other.

"Should I take us out of here? Back to mine," Crowley asked through the haze gathering in his mind.

"No, I don't think you should. I think you like this. I think you like people knowing who you belong to. That I'm going to have you later."

Crowley made a noise he'd never heard before and tried to get closer. He fumbled at Aziraphale’s zip thoughtlessly, forgetting where they were even as the bass thrummed in his blood.

"I think you'd like if the whole world knew how much you want my cock. You’d take it right here if I wanted you to."

"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," Crowley said, jerking against Aziraphale when the angel grabbed his arse.

"Home. Home. We have to go home."

Aziraphale growled and Crowley knew they had to leave before he lost too much control and actually did fuck him in the middle of the bar.

Crowley dragged him into the loo and blinked them back to his apartment. His feet had barely hit the floor when he was lifted bodily by two strong hands on his waist before being deposited on his desk.

Aziraphale shoved Crowley’s jacket off his shoulders and threw it to the side. Crowley tried to open his own zip but Aziraphale knocked his hands away with another low growl. They were at that portion of the evening then. Crowley had forgotten how fast the venom worked.

Aziraphale ripped open his flies and shoved his hand down Crowley's trousers with very little finesse. It didn't matter. Aziraphale could slam him around, be hamfisted and awkward because it turned out Crowley was unbelievably turned on by this behavior. And he thought he’d just have to put up with it because Aziraphale wanted to try it. He’d been an idiot.

He bucked up into Aziraphale’s hands and tried to get Aziraphale’s coat off but Aziraphale was single-minded and he pushed away Crowley’s hands, that steady rumble in his chest. Crowley found his wrists pinned beside his thighs by wide palms as Aziraphale kissed his jaw, his neck. 

He struggled against Aziraphale’s grip—he wanted Aziraphale’s clothes off, to get closer—but the angel held fast, making Crowley’s heart race.

Then Aziraphale’s mouth was on his neck, teeth sinking into his skin. Crowley cried out, the sharp pain of the bite shot through with pleasure.

His chest was heaving and he needed…he needed…

“‘Ziraphale," Crowley said, struggling again. But Aziraphale was beyond comprehending language. It had been a risk of the venom. Crowley had explained but Aziraphale had been certain he wanted this. Now Crowley hoped Aziraphale enjoyed the aftermath because Crowley desperately wanted to do this again.

He felt bruises forming under the grip on his wrists, a bite mark on his neck currently being soothed by a hot tongue and all he could do was take it.

His wrists were suddenly released as Aziraphale fisted his hands in Crowley's shirt and ripped it in two. The brief irritation—he had liked that shirt—passed under the onslaught of Aziraphale’s hands on his chest, nails scraping over his pecs and stomach, just the wrong side of painful. He wondered if Aziraphale broke skin.

He didn't have long to think on it because the next moment Aziraphale had pushed him to his knees and was unzipping his own trousers.

Crowley looked up at him and his stomach clenched with need. He wanted to take off his own half-open trousers, but he didnt think Aziraphale would let him.

It didn’t matter though because Aziraphale had him by the hair and was brushing the head of his cock over Crowley’s lips, smearing precome over them until Crowley opened his mouth and Aziraphale sank inside. Crowley was familiar with this, the steady weight of Aziraphale’s cock on his tongue. He wasn’t familiar with the way Aziraphale held his head in place as he steadily fed Crowley his cock.

Realizing he wasn’t about to gain control of the situation, Crowley let his eyes drift shut and allowed Aziraphale to fuck his mouth.

Crowley had seen his venom in action before. He’d seeded it in drinks at Roman orgies, driven royalty mad with the right amount dropped into their wine. The heady truth of it was that he'd never expected this to happen to him and he'd certainly never expected to like it.

Lips stretched around Aziraphale’s girth, Crowley tried to relax his jaw as Azraphale pushed in and out of his mouth. Aziraphale’s cock hit the back of his throat and he gagged. Spit rushed through his mouth and dripped over Aziraphale’s length, down his face and onto Aziraphale’s polished shoes.

The pain in his scalp surged with the roiling in his gut as he gagged. It made his adrenaline crest, blood loud in his ears.

Aziraphale pulled back and Crowley gasped, vision blurring. He looked up just as Aziraphale came, spending over his chin and chest. Sometimes Aziraphale came on him but he always cleaned it up with little flicks of his pretty pink tongue. Sometimes it tickled and whatever sensual thing Aziraphale had been trying for fell apart because Crowley could never stop laughing

But apparently that wasn’t on the menu because Aziraphale yanked him into a standing position and forced him to turn around until his elbows were on his desk. Teeth sank into the flesh of his arse and he cried out. Sharp sensations traveled up his back as Aziraphale bit and bit and bit. Crowley was still hard, still leaking, still waiting. He realized he felt high. Sensations dragged over his skin with feather-edged clarity, sharp and smooth all at once.

His trousers were tugged down around his knees before he felt the blunt tip of Aziraphale cock. Fuck, he was hard again. That was fast. He felt it against his arse, felt it breach him, felt the steady burn and stretch as Aziraphale fucked him shallowly. Crowley cast out for a miracle to slick the way and tipped his head to rest on his desk, arse in the air as Aziraphale pushed in. His forearms slid forward and he had to splay out his hands to grip the surface of the desk

Aziraphale didn’t wait very long before sinking all the way inside, trading the shallow rocking of his hips for something intense and overwhelming. Come dripped off Crowley’s face and onto the desk, smearing under his hands as he tried to find purchase. With every one of Aziraphale’s thrusts, Crowley’s thighs dug into the edge of the desk and made Crowley grunt in pain.

It was just another sensation alongside the stretch of Aziraphale’s cock, the flare of pleasure when he scraped over his prostate, the ache on his neck where Aziraphale had bitten him. Aziraphale was possessing him, owning him, marking him. All the while with Crowley’s own bite on his neck, his venom inside him making him lose control.

His prick was aching when he began to feel the tension at the base of his spine. He tried to push back against Aziraphale but the angel was holding him down by the hips. It didn’t matter because the tension just kept growing and growing until it snapped. Crowley shook as he came, feeling like a ragdoll as Aziraphale fucked him through it. He felt the hot splash of semen on the back of his thighs.

He was flipped onto his back and being kissed before he could even think, a fierce hungry thing that he felt too wrung out to return.

Crowley didn’t remember how long his venom could last and he wasn’t sure he cared.

* * *

Crowley woke up to a warm cloth running over his chest. Then something blunt—a thumb?—pressed against his collarbone and he hissed.

“I’m sorry, darling.”

Crowley opened his eyes and as the world rushed into focus so did various points of pain on his body. Bite marks on his hips, a twinge in his arse, a strain in his arms. But nothing hurt so much as the bite on his neck which Aziraphale had returned to over and over again throughout the night.

“S’fine,” Crowley slurred even as Aziraphale passed his hands over Crowley’s body, cleaning and healing as he went. “Liked it.”

Aziraphale frowned down at him. He looked perfectly put together. As if he hadn’t just spent the better part of a night fucking Crowley in every position known to man. And then some.

“I hurt you,” Aziraphale said, tracing his thumb once more under that bruised mark.

“Yup, liked it,” Crowley repeated. He was going to close his eyes and sleep a bit more but before that... “What about you?”

“It was...well.” Aziraphale was blushing and looking at the floor. “It was quite intense. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt anything like it.”

“Not answering the question, angel.”

“I liked it very much,” Aziraphale said, finally meeting his eyes. Fuck, Crowley loved him.

“Good,” Crowley said as he flapped a hand at Aziraphale. “Come over here. Have a lie down.”

Aziraphale humphed. “I’ve got to heal your neck.”

“Nah,” Crowley said, tugging on Aziraphale’s elbow weakly. “Like it. It’ll give me a little scar that says _property of Aziraphale_.”

Aziraphale laid down and huffed a breath through his nose. “Hardly seems fair.”

Crowley rolled over and tucked his nose into Aziraphale’s side. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you one later. Sleep now.”

Aziraphale ran his fingers through his hair carefully as Crowley drifted off to sleep.


End file.
